The Devil Has Dimples (13 page)

“Silas verbally attacked me when he walked in the door.”

“What did he say?”  I asked.

“Nothing.  He came in the office and flatly stated that he
wasn’t your father.”

“Why then all the yelling?”

Grant pulled a wry grin.  “Usually if you get someone mad
enough, they’ll let something slip that they normally wouldn’t say.”

“Oh.  So you got him mad.”

“That was easy to do.  He was angry when he came in.”  Grant
looked thoughtful.  “I wonder why?”

“Why what?”

“Why was he so angry when he came in.  Our phone
conversation ended on a good note.  So what happened to change his attitude?”

“Is it too late to ask him?”

Grant thought for a moment.  “Let me wait until he cools
down.  I want him rational.”  Dimples flashed.  “If that can ever happen with
Silas.”

“If he’s not my father, I wonder who is then.”

“So do I.”  Grant said.

I sat there wondering.  What did Alice mean?  Nothing good
will come of it.  Are there some secrets that should stay buried?  Such as
knowing who my father was?  Why would it make a difference to anyone but
myself?  But then I thought of Bitsy.  Bitsy would be devastated to find out
that her husband fathered a child out of wedlock.  Or would she?  What did I
know of these people?  I had only been in town a few days.  Obviously there
were secrets out there, secrets concerning me, secrets that apparently didn’t
want to be discovered.

* * *

“What we need is a time line.”  Grant said.  He was leaning
back against the sofa, his hands behind his head, relaxed, his stomach full for
the moment.

“What do you mean, a time line?”  I asked.

“You know.  Your birth date, then going back nine months to
see what Maudie was doing, what was going on in the community, who was here,
all that stuff.”  Grant got up and walked over to my side, taking down another
teacup from the cabinet.

I motioned for him to give me his cup, then automatically
poured both of our cups with boiling water as he pulled tea bags from a box.

I thought for a moment.  “That makes a lot of sense.”

I got up and went into the bedroom.  I came back a moment
later with a pad and pencil.  Noticing that Grant was reseated on the sofa, I
sat next to him.

“December 9, 1984”  I wrote it down, then looked at him
expectantly.

“Count back nine months, and you have March, maybe back into
late February of that year.”  Grant answered, plunking his tea bag up and down
in the cup.

“Yes, I learned that you count plus seven days minus three
months from your last period.  That could easily take it back into late
February.  Though, most first babies are generally a few days late,” I said.

Grant seemed horrified.  “That’s more than I wanted to
know.”

I put down my paper and pencil.  “I guess I should to go to
the newspaper office.”  I walked to the kitchen, took my tea bag out and
squeezed it, then added sugar.  Looking at Grant, I brought the sugar bowl and
spoon to where he was sitting.

“Thanks.  T-Jack will be delighted to show you around.” 
Settling next to him, I remarked dryly.  “I’m sure he will.  If I had a Valium,
I’d take it before I go.”

Grant laughed.  “Well, if there’s anything to be found at
The Chronicle, T-Jack can find it for you.”  He set his cup down.

“Well, I wish he would just point me in the right direction
and leave me to my own devices.”  I set my cup down.  I looked into his deep
brown eyes, noting how warm and inviting they looked.

“Try the library first.  It should be a lot quieter there.” 
Grant’s voice became lower as he gazed into my eyes. “And then if you need to
contact T-Jack, you’ll pretty much know what you need to ask.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  I whispered back.

Grant cupped my head with his hand and pulled me gently
forward into his kiss.

It was heaven.  His lips were soft, gentle, inviting.  I
wanted to devour him, so I touched his lips with my tongue and he parted them
to accept me.  Time seemed to stand still.  My brain buzzed.  I think that I
could do this forever.  Grant pulled back and gave me a smile.

“Someone’s downstairs.”

“Huh?”  My brain was still buzzing, as were my lips.  Then I
realized that the downstairs doorbell was buzzing and not about to stop.

“Downstairs.”  Grant dimpled at me again, making me want to
climb on his lap and show him how good I could kiss, then his cell phone began
to ring.  He got up, leaving me breathless, stunned, and lusting for him.

“Rats.”  I heaved myself up off the sofa and trotted over to
the staircase.  Whoever was ringing the doorbell was determined to get my
attention.

I trotted down the stairs and as I looked through the
window, I saw Bitsy standing outside.  Oh, no.  She looked angry.

I came to the bottom of the stairs and remembered to turn
the light on and as soon as I did she released the doorbell.  The sudden
silence was only broken by the thumping of my heart.

I found the key and opened the door, only fumbling a little,
I was nervous.  Opening it, I let her in.

“Hi, Bitsy.  It’s great to see you.”  What a liar I am.  I
hope she couldn’t see that I was lying.

“We need to talk.”  She was grim.  Her eyes looked tired,
her generous mouth in a frown.  For once, she looked her age.

“Sure.  Want to come upstairs.  I just fixed some tea.”

“Is Grant up there?”  Her gaze moved up the staircase,
searching.

“Yes.”

Bitsy shook her head.

So she didn’t want to talk in front of Grant.  I wondered
why.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”  She turned to leave, and I
grabbed her arm.

“Wait.  You seem upset, and I always found that if you
discuss it out right away, things start to get better right away.”  Now that
sounded trite even to me.  But I didn’t want her to leave angry.

Bitsy chewed on her bottom lip and sighed deeply.  “It
doesn’t matter.”  She started to leave.

I called to her before she closed the door.  “Bitsy.  I know
Silas isn’t my father.”

She glanced back at me, stricken.  Then she shook her head
and gently closed the door behind her.

What a mess.  I locked the door, turned off the lights and
went upstairs.

Grant wasn’t there.

I could see a light from under his bedroom door.

What could he be doing in there?  I’m sure he heard Bitsy,
but then again, perhaps he didn’t.  Wasn’t he curious as to who was at the
door?

I picked up my cup of tea.  It was tepid, so I poured it
down the sink, washed the cup and put it in the drainer.  Some things were so
easy to fix.  Others weren’t.

It was time to search Maudie’s office.

* * *

What a mess.  Piles of papers were on the desk, there were
even piles on the floor, plus a large stack of reference books haphazardly
leaning against the wall in no apparent order.  It would take a long time for
me to sort through everything.  I decided to tackle the desk drawers first.  If
I was going to hide something, the drawers would be my choice.

Maudie had an old-fashioned desk lamp, with a green glass
lampshade.  The light couldn’t reach into the drawer I pulled out.  So, I
decided to take the whole drawer upstairs and sort through it up there.  When I
slid it out of its hole, I almost dropped it.  The sucker was made out of solid
wood and stuffed full.  Carefully, I propped it on my hip and turning off the
lights as I went back upstairs.

Grant was still in his room, and I could hear him talking to
someone on the phone.  Tina?

I decided to use the dining room table.  I plunked the heavy
drawer down and started some more water to boil.  As I was redoing my cup and
tea bag, I heard Grant’s door open.  Turning around I noticed that he was
standing there with a rueful grin on his face, towel-drying his hair.

“Took your shower already.”

“Yeah.  A cold one.”

I couldn’t help it, but smiled.  He took a cold shower
because of our kiss.  A warm flash went from my throat through my stomach and
landed south of there.  I was going to need a cold shower myself.  Then I
thought of Tina, and it pretty much cooled me right off my lust.

He looked at the table and asked.  “What’s that?”

“A drawer from Maudie’s desk.”

He walked over and poked around the contents with his
finger.  “Good luck. It looks like a mess.”

“If you think that looks bad, you should see the rest of the
desk.”

“I have.  Once she was out of town and I had to find her
checkbook, and it took me an hour.  Needless to say, I didn’t go fishing around
in her stuff again.”

“Well, it’ll give me some direction.  At least, I hope it does.” 
The teapot started to sing, so I took it off the burner and started to pour a
cup.  “Want some tea?”

“No.  I think a beer would calm me down.”  He opened the
refrigerator and pulled out a long-neck, twisted off the cap and sat at the
table.

“Calm you down?”

He flashed his dimples.  “Yep.  For some reason my heart is
racing.”

I could feel myself blushing.  I hate when that happens.  It
starts up my neck and then flushes out into my cheeks.

Grant chuckled.  “Seems like something on you is racing
too.”

“Hush.”  I finished making my cup of tea and sat across from
him.  Taking out a handful of stuff from the drawer, I placed it in front of
me.  What a bunch of junk.  Three envelopes, with nothing inside.  I got up and
took the trash can from under the sink and set it beside me at the table. 
Chunk.  Chunk.  Chunk.

I think I might fill up file thirteen before the night is
over.

Some rubber bands.  Chunk.

A broken pencil.  Chunk.

A black book.  Chunk.  My hand retrieved it before it had a
chance to get cozy in the trash.  I opened the cover and discovered it was an
address book.  A very old address book.

Grant noticed my interest between his sips of beer.  “What’s
that?”

“Looks like an address book.”

“Let me see.”  He reached out his hand and I gave him the
book.  He would know the names of the people inside much better than I would.

He thumbed through it page by page.  I watched as his long
fingers turned each page.  His nails were cut closely, a narrow white edge
tipping each nail.  His hands were capable.  Capable of driving me to
distraction.

“Anything interesting?”  I inquired, while my hand inserted
itself into the drawer again and lifted out another conglomeration of items.

He pursued one page for a moment longer.  “I don’t know.”

“Well, what are you staring at that one page for?”  I
stabbed myself with an unbent paper clip and stuck my finger in my mouth.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

I took my finger out of my mouth so I could ask, “Such as.”

“Well, Maudie wrote everyone’s name in, except for the last
name, but I know all those.  Except for this one entry.  She wrote an initial.”

“What’s the initial?”  My attention was caught by a flash of
light in the drawer, so I reached in and took out a ring box, at least that’s
what it looked like.

“C,” Grant said.

“C?”  I struggled to find the minute clash to open the box. 
It had a thin ridge that I could barely slip my fingernail into, finally it
snapped open.

 I gasped and Grant looked up at me.

“What’s wrong?”

I held out the ring box to him.

“Damn.”  He peered into it.

It was a diamond engagement ring.  A huge diamond engagement
ring.  Emerald cut, its facets caught the light and threw miniature spots of
rainbow colors on his shirt.

He reached into the case and withdrew the ring.  Holding it
between his fingers he slowly held it out to me.

Of course I had to try it on.  My ring finger was too big so
I tried my little finger, and it slid right on.  It was beautiful.

As I put my hand out to see how the total effect looked,
Grant asked.  “I wonder who it belongs to.”

That question startled me.  “Wouldn’t it belong to Maudie?”

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maudie did a lot of appraising.  Check
out the setting, it looks old.”

I did as he asked.  The setting of white gold did look old. 
It looked as if it had been well worn.  Tiny scratches marred the wide band.

“Wait, there might be something engraved inside.”  I tried
to pull it off, but it wouldn’t slip off easily.  Getting up, I walked to the
sink and put some soap on my hands, lathered up, and tried to remove it again. 
Finally it slid off.

Washing it under the tap water, I then dried it off on a
towel.  Turning it in my fingers to see the inside, I could see writing
inside.  But couldn’t decipher it.

“What does it say?”

I handed the ring to him.  “I can’t tell.  It seems like a
foreign language.”

Grant positioned the ring to see the inside and studied it
for a moment. 
“Je vous aimerai pour toujours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You got me.  Let me write it down and ask around.”  He
grabbed a pencil out of the drawer and found a partially blank envelope and
began to write down the engraving.

I reached over and picked up the ring box and began to study
it more closely.  There were initials engraved on the front that I hadn’t seen
before.  They were stylized and almost looked like a decorative scroll, but if
you looked close enough you could see a ‘E’ intertwined with a ‘J’ and a larger
“G” encircling both of the other letters.

“Know anyone with the initials, E G or J G?”  I asked.

Grant looked up at me, then glanced at the compact.  “No. 
Not right off-hand.  Look in the black book and see if you can find anything.”

I thumbed slowly through the pages, stopping whenever one of
those initials prefaced a name, without last names in the book it made it
difficult.

“You have to do it since I don’t know everyone’s last name,
and Maudie didn’t put any in here.”